Cookie Jar
by mrazfreak
Summary: This is a oneshot songfic for Jack Johnson's Cookie Jar. It's not great writing or anything, it just portrays the meaning behind the song.


**A/N I know this is really weird, but it's not so much the writing format I was focusing on here, as it was the message behind the song. It's just a way to clarify it's lyrics for anybody who doesn't get it. So yeah, review if you want, but it's not neccessary on this one. Also, I don't own the song Cookie Jar by Jack Johnson or any of the lyrics.**

'None of them care,' Jemal Shanton thought to himself. "None of them care, and none of them will remember...unless I make them." Jemal looked around the cafeteria at his fellow students. He hated them all, and in his mind they were the root of his hell. His eyes settled on a table full of joyful laughing kids, sharing bag lunches and private jokes. Jemal would kill to be one of them.

His eyes then wandered over the other tables. Each group looked different, but in his mind they all shared one vital thing: they were happy. He needed to be like that. He craved the feeling of ease, and comfort. He hadn't felt in a very long time, and was now taking matters in to his own hands to get it back. And in the process, he might be able to make those smiling fools a little less content.

He hunched over the table, and stuck his hand in to his pants pocket. He could feel the smooth metal in his grasp, sonice and inviting. He took a hold of it in his hand, and then stood up. He climbed on top of the table he was at alone.

"Listen up!" he shouted at the puzzled students. They turned back to their lunches and started whispering about the strange goth standing on the table and screaming. At this response, Jemal became more aggrivated. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and held the revealed gun up to the sky. "LOOK AT ME!" he screamed as loud as his lungs allowed. This time, not a head turned back. Teachers from the corners of the room started hurrying over to his table while others dialed 911. Jemal looked down frantically at the approaching teachers, his eyes darting wildly around. He brought the gun down to face them. "Don't come near me!" he shouted and they all stopped in their tracks. Jemal faced the terrified kids once more. He started reciting the short speech that he'd been practicing for a year.

"I know most of you don't know me. But after this you'll never be able to forget," tears formed in his eyes and he clenched his jaw. He continued with a raspy voice. "I just want to let you all know, that I've been jealous of you for a very long time. But, guess what? I'm not going to feel any pain any more. Thanks to all of you who told me to 'drop dead', your advice helped me a lot," he slowly moved the gun to the side of his head. "Life's been killing me ever since it begun," he said in a sobbing whisper. Students began calling out 'don't do it', but Jemal quickly told yelled at them to shut up. He closed his eyes tight, and heard sirens growing louder. His sweaty finger found the trigger, and danced over it for a moment. The silence was interrupted by a BANG, and Jemal Shanton landed eyes still open on the cafeteria table.

* * *

Henry Shanton stared red-eyed into those of the police. His cheeks held remnants of riverbeds where tears had once flown strong."I never taught him that death was a choice," Henry said weakly to the officers. "I don't know how he came up with the idea to kill himself. It must be from all the killing on the TV screens. You can't blame me it's those images he sees."

* * *

Channel 3 News producer Jackie Sullivan calls on a man in a brown suit. She was tired of answering all these questions at yet another press conference. 

"Ma'am what's your response to people who believe the media causes death?" The man asked.

"You can't blame me, we just point the camera's at what people want to see. It's a two way mirror, no you can't blame me," She said and turned away from the group and left the stage and podium behind.

* * *

"It was all of you," Jemal said looking at those he once knew. "We've all got the blood on our hands.We only receive what we demand. And if we want hell then hell's whatwe'll have." 

**Lyrics::**

**I would turn on the TV but it's so embarrassing**

**To see all the other people I don't know what they mean**

**And it was magic at first when they spoke without sound**

**But now this world is gonna hurt you better turn that thing down**

**Turn it around**

**"It wasn't me", says the boy with the gun**

**"Sure I pulled the trigger but it needed to be done**

**Cause life's been killing me ever since it begun**

**You cant blame me cause I'm too young"**

**"You can't blame me sure the killer was my son**

**But I didn't teach him to pull the trigger of the gun**

**It's the killing on this TV screen**

**You cant blame me its those images he seen"**

**Well "You can't blame me", says the media man**

**Well "I wasn't the one who came up with the plan**

**I just point my camera at what the people want to see**

**Man it's a two way mirror and you cant blame me"**

**"You can't blame me", says the singer of the song**

**Or the maker of the movie which he based his life on**

**"It's only entertainment and as anyone can see**

**The smoke machines and makeup and you cant fool me"**

**It was you it was me it was every man**

**We've all got the blood on our hands**

**We only receive what we demand**

**And if we want hell then hells what well have**

**And I would turn on the TV**

**But it's so embarrassing**

**To see all the other people**

**I don't even know what they mean**

**And it was magic at first**

**But let everyone down**

**And now this world is gonna hurt**

**You better turn it around**

**Turn it around**


End file.
